Snowy Love (Rewritten)
by TheOneWithTheScar
Summary: Hiccup. The small, intelligent boy with the big cello between his legs, is ignored by everyone 24/7, and beaten to a pulp by his own father. Jack. The most popular, attractive boy in school with a rich family, the caption of the football team, and has everything he could ever need or want. What happens when these two worlds collide? Some details changed from the original story.
1. Nothing To Stay For

**Hey guys! I just got a Mac Book Air! *Everybody applauses* So, now I ****can probably get more stories out there quicker. **

**This idea was inspired by Kitsu Maxwell.**

** She left a comment that some people would say was mean, and that was how I took it at first, just another hater. But, I really took in consideration some of the things she said, and I ****realize how bad this story is. So, I am rewriting it. I also unexpectedly just ended the story, which wasn't very fair to any of you, so that is another reason why I have decided to rewrite Snowy Love. And this time around, I promise, I'll be better.**

**Chapter 1: Nothing To Stay For**

I had given up hope a long time ago.

I no longer expected my father to snap out of what I had hoped was a "phase". I no longer kept believing that my father was just grieving his lost wife, and that it justified him beating me to a pulp. I no longer expected there to be food in the kitchen, clean clothes in my closet, and coming home to a clean house, free of beer cans and evidence spilled all over the house that reminded me, day after day, that my mother was gone.

And I defiantly, no longer expected my father to love me anymore.

But that didn't mean it still didn't hurt. It still hurt when I opened up the refrigerator door, hoping for something to eat after not eating for two straight days, and seeing nothing. It still hurt when I had to wear the same clothes everyday, of course drawing attention from the other kids. It still hurt that I had to step over beer cans in my once clean house.

And it still hurt to know that I wasn't loved.

That was what was on my mind as I grabbed my backpack from the bottom step of the staircase and stepped out of the house into the cool autumn air. The leaves where just starting to fall off of the tress, decorating them in a collage of oranges, reds, and yellows.

I wonder if the leaves knew that when they became something so wonderful, that when life became so good for them, they were only going to die.

The month of September was close to being over. I had been in school for over two months now, and I still haven't made a single friend. Not that I counted on doing that anyway.

It seemed only a handful of teachers seemed to notice that I was always outcasted by the other children, but only one or two of them actually said anything. Aand the things they said didn't actually mean anything. All they said was:

"Just try to make friends, you'll be surrounded by them in no time!"

Or:

"It's not healthy to be so isolated. Try talking to some of the other kids."

Yeah, easier said then done, thank you very much. Do you know how nerve racking it is to go up to someone and strike a conversation with them? Especially if you're already awkward and have social anxiety like me.

I gazed down at the small hole in my right black Converse low tops as I walked towards the high school.

I live in a very big neighborhood. One of those neighborhoods were the houses are simple and two story, yet smushed together next to a gazillion other house that look just like yours. Where you only have a couple of yards before there is another house, and another, and another. Those type of neighborhoods where you celebrate the holidays together, and grow up together. Those neighborhoods where everyone is suppose to know everything about everybody.

But oh, how they know nothing.

All of the kids avoid me, but I'm used to it. Being alone is something I've grown used to over the months that then turn into years. But, when someone like me is alone, it's bad. Because when I'm alone, my mind is free to wonder. Which is very, very, bad. Because when my mind wonders, thoughts start forming. Dark thoughts. And that is never good.

I can hear all of the other teens that surround me talking to each other about random stuff. Although the real chatter happens after school lets out and we're all walking home. But for now it's seven in the morning, it's chilly, and nobody really wanted to get out of bed this morning.

Except for me. I'm always looking for an opportunity to leave the house, whether my dad is there or not.

Suddenly, one of the kids on the other side of the road screams, "It's them!"

We all turn, preparing ourselves for the worst. If only they all knew how many times I've had to do that, they just might treat me better.

A black, sleek, shinny car comes zooming on the road, and my heart falls into my stomach.

It's the _football players._ A mixture of Juniors and Seniors that love to torture Freshman, like me. They think they rule the school because they won the state championship last year. And what made it worst, was that the team caption, also the richest kid in our entire town, no actually the richest kid in our entire _state, _scored the game winning goal. Which of course just made his ego shoot up even more, and his popularity went up with it.

Jack Frost.

I'll admit, I was jealous. But not because he was rich or popular, but because he had a family that love him and cared for him. Something I don't have...anymore.

One of the football players, a senior that was dumber than a loaf of bread, rolled down the sunroof and screamed, "FRESHIES!" And then thew an open bottle of Coke filled with half a pack of Mintos straight at me. They did it every morning.

And even though he was stupid, that still didn't effect his ability to throw.

It landed right at my feet and splatter me, and the girl that was about two yards in front of me. We both got the sticky liquid spilled on our arms and legs, but all of the kids ran over to the girl, asking if she was ok, some of the girls offering some wet wipes they had in their backpack.

But, of course nobody came over to me to see if I was ok. Nobody offered me any form of assistance. Because once again, I was forgotten.

The car had all ready zoomed by to go terrorize another set of Freshman, so while everyone was gathered around the girl, I ran past them all, trying to get to school early now so I could clean off the unwanted sticky substance.

Five minutes later, I arrived at our local town high school, pushing past the large crowd that was mostly Juniors, Seniors, and some Sophomres, mostly because they could all drive.

I ran to the nearest boy's restroom, my backpack smacking against the back of my upper thighs. The liquid was starting to dry, and get super sticky. This was just going to make the task at hand harder than what it was.

After wetting a bunch of paper towels and running them over my legs and arms, being slightly successful at the goal of cleaning myself off, I walked to my locker, of course keeping my head down and avoiding eye contact with anyone.

I'm messed up. That's how I'll put it in. In other words, I'm broken. Down right broken. God, I guess, made a few mistakes making me. I'm shy beyond any other average shy person, I have social anxiety, which is a total turn off for anyone who even dares to talk to me.

I hate it when people laugh at me.

I hate it when people look at me.

I hate it when people look me in the eye.

I'm afraid of never being good enough.

I'm afraid of disappointing people.

I'm afraid of rejection.

But, unfortunately, all of those fears have already come to life.

I'l never be good enough.

All I ever do is disappoint people.

And nobody will ever accept me.

These things I know for sure.

Not to mention my depression problem. But, I guess that's nobody's fault. Except my brain, always telling me things, things I don't want to hear.

Told you I was broken.

I twist the knob on my locker, grab the books that I need, and practically sprint to my class, but still keeping my head down at all times.

I'm not late; I just want to be the first one there. If someone else is there first, they will stare at me as I walk in, judging me, not accepting me as who I am...

The mere thought sends shivers down my back.

I finally arrive at my class, ten minutes early as usual. At least I start off the day with one of my favorite classes due to how crappy my morning has been. I'm in AP Calculus, the only Freshman in a class of Juniors of Seniors. I love math, it's so balanced and equal, and there is never a maybe in math, everything is in black and white. It's other right or wrong. That's what I love about math- the fact that it's stable, it never changes, and it's ironic because math is the complete opposite of my life. I guess that's another reason I like it. It keeps me busy, and keeps my mind away from the horror that is...well, my life.

I slide into my seat, trying to draw the least amount of attention to myself as I can. I pull out my notebook and the huge book that has the word "Calculous" on it.

Some other students walk in as well. I sink into my seat. _Please don't notice me. Please don't say anything. _I keep my eyes on my desk, staring down at my Calculous book.

Not that anyone would say anything.

I pull out my favorite book of all time: If I Stay. I can compare so much of my life to hers. Just like her, I play the cello. Although, I play it in secret so nobody can make fun of me. But, I love playing the cello. Whenever I play it, I leave this horrible reality, and I go to a different place, where's there is no yelling, no bullying, just me and my cello.

I just love music in general. It's an escape. So is writing.

Oh, spoiler alert: She stays. For anyone who hasn't read the book yet.

I don't know what it is. But, when you have a connection with someone, even if they are fictional, you cling to it. Just like Mia, I stick out like a sore thumb, and I hate it. All I've ever wanted was to fit in.

Just like Mia, our build is something we struggle with.

But, unlike Mia, I have nothing to stay for.

Nothing at all.


	2. Million and One

**I should be studying. Sorry not sorry. I need an ****escape from the world. So, hello internet friends! Make me feel better. Anyways, I absolutely love this chapter. Tell me if you like it, too! **

**I WILL UPDATE TIME TO GO AS SOON AS I GET INSPIRATION. I'M SO SORRY MY FRIENDS. SAD FACE.**

**Ah-hem. Got that out of the way. On with the story!**

**Who loves music? Everybody. And if you don't there is something seriously wrong with you.**

**Well, I guess we're all a little crazy.**

**Chapter 2: Million and One**

The bell that signals the beginning of lunch fills the empty halls of my high school. Kids pile out of their classes, eager to go talk to their friends and eat their food.

Except for me, of course.

I have no friends, or food. But, that doesn't mean I don't look forward to lunch. Lunch is my free time. Literally.

I bolt to the band room that was a few hallways down. I didn't pay attention to anybody else as I pushed open the heavy door that read "Band Room".

Mrs. Tooth, (yes, that was her real name) looked up at the sight of me. "Oh, Hiccup!" She exclaimed. "You're class doesn't start until another two hours. Practice again, I suppose?"

I nodded.

Mrs. Tooth was probably the only sane person in my life at the moment, even though at the sight of her, you would have thought she was the craziest person alive.

With her aqua, yellow and purple dyed hair, her bright, sparkly eye shadow, and her clothes covered in different covered feathers, she looked like a little girl who had gotten into her mother's make up.

But, she was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. Because she let me practice the cello during lunch, and she let me play in the school orchestra, even though I couldn't pay the admission fee.

Connected to the band room was the auditorium. Along the back wall, all of the orchestra instruments were carefully placed. I went straight for the cello, one of the biggest of all of the instruments, and carefully as possible, dragged it up the stage, and sat in the lone chair that was center stage.

Nobody used the auditorium except for the school plays and choir and band concerts. The house, or where the people would sit, was completely black. The only source of light was the stage that was lit up.

I took a deep breath as I positioned the cello against my body, and I let my bow hover over the strings, wondering what I should play. Finally, I just decided to improvise.

I started to play.

I played whatever came to mind. I fingered the strings and let my bow glide across them, making the most beautiful sound. I closed my eyes, as I thought of a spring time meadow, with vibrant colors and the overall feeling of freedom. I played a happier note, feeling the happiness flood through me as I thought up a fantasy.

Then, I went to fall. The smell of dirt and the sight of beautiful colored leaves falling around me. It made me slightly sad, yet excited. I played a lower note, yet I made it fast and quick pace.

Then, I imagined winter. I imagined the light snow falling silently onto the ground, as Christmas carols were being sung in the distance. There were Christmas lights strung, yet I couldn't feel the harsh cold. All I could feel was peacefulness the snow and light music brought me. I played a more soft, and peaceful note, with a slow tempo.

I then turned to summer, the warmth of the sun and life all around me. I fed off of the fake energy, playing a high, happy note, yet making it a very quick tempo, sensing the excitement that summer was here.

I played like this. Taking inspiration from happier memories of my life. I imagined anything and everything, and I finished off the piece with a slow tempo, yet happy note. As if the perfect ending to the perfect day.

I let the silence fill the room, as I soaked up the last note, still lingering in the air. But, as soon as the note ended, so did my happiness. I tried to remember the warmth of the sun, and the peacefulness of the snow, but suddenly I was startled so much, I dropped my bow and the cello almost crashed to floor if I had not caught it in time.

Someone was _clapping._ Someone was _clapping _for _me._

The entire auditorium was dark except for the stage, so I had to squint to see the person. And when they finally emerged from the darkness of the house, my jaw dropped.

The person, who was still clapping may I remind you, was Jack Frost. _The _Jack Frost. The richest, most popular boy in the entire school. Was clapping. For _me. _

I was stunned. Absolutely stunned.

His snow white hair glistened as the lights of the stage reflected off of it. Those icy blue eyes looked right at me, never leaving me. His skin sparked, just like his hair and eyes did. It looked like a million different snowflakes sparkling in the morning, as the sun was just about to come up. He was skinny, but not like me skinny, healthy skinny. He had muscles that flexed as he walked closer and closer towards me. I felt my mouth go dry as each one flexed. I was wondering if he did that on purpose.

He was wearing dark blue skinny jeans, a football shirt with a leather jacket over it, and black converse high tops. But, nothing like mine. They look new, as if they just came out of the box at that very second.

I felt my heart stop as he flashed a beautiful smile at me, showing off his perfect, pearly white teeth.

Everything about him was perfect. Everything. Down to how perfect his dark eyebrows were, to how perfect his nose was. Everything was downright perfect.

Jack had walked up the stairs to the stage, and just stood there in front of me, looking amazed.

_Yeah, of how amazed how much of a dork I am. _I though to myself.

"Wow," He said. "Well, aren't you something."

I snapped out of my trace at that moment. He was looking me in the eye, he was paying attention to me, he was talking to me, looking at me. It made me feel uncomfortable. I dropped my gaze, my face burring red of embarrassment. I picked up my fallen bow.

"Um, yeah, ah, thanks." I mumbled.

"What is this, a big violin?" Jack asked, gesturing to my cello. I ran my fingers over the strings in a calming motion, trying to calm myself down. "Um, no, it's ah, it's a cello."

"A cello?" He repeated.

I just nodded, playing with the hem of my shirt, looking at my beat up shoes.

"How long have you been plain _the cello?_" He asked, in a mocking tone. My face burned red. He was making fun of me. I should have checked the auditorium before I started practicing. Stupid, Hiccup. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"A long time," I said. I decided to look up at him, stop hiding behind the cello, stop being a coward. Big mistake. My mouth became even drier and my heart rate quickened as my eyes met his beautiful icy blue ones.

He swallowed, studying me. I wanted to look at my shoes again, but I didn't have enough will power to tear my gaze away from his beautiful face.

"Hey! I know you." Jack said, his eyes wide and full of excitement. "You're the little freshie Andrew threw Coke at!" Then, his face darkened. "Sorry about that, by the way."

"Yeah, I'm _that kid." _I said, getting a mixture of anger and nervousness washed over me. I stood up from my plastic chair on shaky legs, and tried to confidently walk over, placed my cello in the appropriate place, and then walk out. But, things did not go as plan.

As I tried to stand up from my chair, I tripped over my own two feet, and I was going to land face first on the hard wooden stage, my cello currently leaning against the chair, if Jack hadn't wrapped his strong hands around my upper arms, steadying me.

His long, beautiful, sparking hands rested on my upper arms, and although his skin looked liked snow, his touch was warm and comforting.

But, I hated to be touched. Because the only contact I ever got was a swift smack across the face. I tensed and drew back my arms, my face burning red, hotter than the sun.

"Thanks," I said, pressing my arms closer to my body.

"No problem." He mumbled. He studied my position, and rested his hands on his hips, muttering a quick "Sorry".

"I've never heard anyone like you play before. All I've ever heard is my girlfriend Samantha _trying _to play the violin or whatever."

"I thought Samantha played the flute." I said. I knew Samantha, and man does she hate me. She always makes fun of me for my size, and the fact that "such a little kid can play such a big instrument". Her dark eyes are always watching me during band class, since I'm the only cellist, and we have six other people playing the flute.

"Flute, violin, whatever. All I know is that it sounds awful." Jack said, "But, don't tell her I said that."

I laughed a little, giving him a little bit of a smile, but then I remembered what I was doing and immediately stopped. No smiling. No laughing.

I turned on my heel and placed my cello and its bow in the appropriate place.

"Where did you learn how to play like that?" Jack asked as I turned around to retrieve my dark green, worn out backpack from the bottom of the stage.

I shrugged. "I just practice a lot, I guess."

I turned around to face Jack after I had slide my backpack on my shoulders. He was staring at me, and it made me feel self-conscious.

"What's your name?" Jack asked, again those icy blue eyes studying every inch of me. I shuffled my feet awkwardly.

"Um...it's Hiccup." I said.

"_Your _name is _Hiccup?_" Jack said, in a are-you-kidding-me sort of way. My heart fluttered as he said my name. Almost like when your crush has said hi to you in the halls. That kind of fluttering.

Although,I hated my name. It stood out like a black marble in a jar of white ones.

I nodded, looking at the floor.

"Well then, Hiccup." Jack said, standing up straighter, "My name is Jack."

"I know who you are." I said, peeking up at him through my bangs.

"Great, now I can skip the introduction." Jack said, resting a hand on his other arm and rolling his eyes. "Why aren't you at lunch?"

"So, I can practice in here." I said, pushing past him, making a break for the door. He was asking too many questions, and if he asked the right ones, he might unearth my secret. And that can _never _happen.

"Wait, where are you going?" Jack asked, following me outside of the auditorium. To be honest, I didn't have any place to go. I wanted to stay and keep playing, but I didn't want to have an audience. Playing in front of people is like reading a book and someone is there reading it over your shoulder. You can't get into because they are there.

"Um..." I searched my mind for a place to go, some place someone like Jack wouldn't want to go. "The library."

"Ug, I hate the library. I mean, I like to read, but there are so many annoying girls there, always trying to get my number.."

"Oh, well isn't that just tragic." I mumbled, rolling my eyes. I would love for someone to pay even a portion of how much attention Jack gets.

Then, a thought struck me. "Why were you in the auditorium?" I asked, shyly. I was still a little shocked that _Jack Frost _was willing to have a conversation with me.

"Oh! Well, my girlfriend Samantha asked me to go grab her violin-"

"Flute." I corrected automatically.

Jack smirked at me, and then said, "Yeah, flute, whatever. So, I went in to go get it, but I have no idea which one it is, and I heard you playing."

"Shouldn't you probably go get her flute, then?" I asked.

Jack's eyes suddenly had hints of sadness in them, but after he swallowed and blinked, he put a smile on his face. "Yeah, I probably should. Could you help me find it?"

"Um..." I hesitated. What if he asked more questions? I mean, I was just _helping _him. It can't be so bad. Especially since I know where and what every instrument is.

"Ok."

Jack's eyes brightened. He followed me back into the auditorium. I searched through the instruments, trying to find the flute that had _Samantha _written on the case.

"Ooo, what's this?" Jack asked, pointing to a large, gold instrument.

"That's a tuba." I said, going back to my search of finding Samantha's flute.

"That's like a cello, right?" Jack asked.

I smiled a little bit, then shook my head. "No, not really."

"Oh." Jack sighed. "What about this? What's that?"

"That's a trumpet." I said.

"Is that like a flute?"

"Um...not really, no."

"Cello?"

"Uh...no."

"This stuff is confusing." Jack said, stepping back, looking at al the instruments. Finally, I found the medium size box with _Samantha _written in silver letters.

"Here you go." I said, handing Jack the flute.

"Oh! Thanks!" Jack said. He opened up the case and gazed down at the flute. "So, that's a flute."

"Correct." I said, heading out the door. This conversation had lasted long enough. I can barely hold a conversation with someone for two minutes, and yes, I was having trouble at the beginning, but how can I effortlessly hold this conversation with Jack? I guess it was something about him that drew people to him. Yeah, that's got to it.

"What's your next class?" Jack asked, flawlessly catching up to me. His long legs made him almost graceful as he walked. He was a foot and a half taller than me. Ug, I hate being short. In public, people tend to talk down to me because they think I'm a third grader. It's extremely annoying.

"Engineering." I said. I had memorized my schedule the first week of school, and between art and engineering, they were the only things that really kept me happy...and busy.

"Whoa, really? You take engineering?" His eyes were wide and curious.

I nodded. I sat down at a nearby bench in the hallway we were walking in. I pulled out my Calculous textbook, going to study for the chapter test we had tomorrow.

"Holy crap, Calculous? I thought you were a freshman!"

"I am." I said, shrugging.

"Dang, you are smart! How do you have time for all this? How do you not crumple under the pressure?" He asked, sitting down next to me. But, he was close. Too close.

I scooted away from him, and shrugged. "Just don't, I guess."

He leaned back, a smirk on his face as he studied me even more with those beautiful, icy blue eyes. "You really are something."

My face burned bright red probably the millionth time during this conversation, flattered by his compliments. I never get compliments. Only insults.

The bell that signaled the end of the lunch period startled me, although Jack just stayed in his relaxed state. I looked at him curiously as I shoved my textbook in my backpack. He just shrugged, looking at his nails.

"I'm a Junior. I get off periods because I already got credit for whatever class I'm suppose to take."

I gave him a half smile as I threw my backpack over my shoulder, hurrying so I wouldn't be late. "Bye, Jack." I mumbled over my shoulder.

Kids were starting to fill the halls, chattering and putting their lunch boxes away.

"BYE HICCUP!" Jack shouted. Everyone turned curiously to Jack and then to me, my face burning red, again.

Make that a million and one.


	3. Completely Over

**Hey guys! Thank you all for the nice comments! I have this story all planned out, and I'm so excited to write it! I hope you enjoy chapter three. **

**Muhahahaha. Warning: Angst. Sorry for it being so short. One chapter at a time.**

**Ok! Here is chapter three!**

**Chapter 3: ****Completely Over**

Jack was on my mind as I walked on the sidewalk, the colorful leaves blowing around me with each step.

The way he sparkled in the light, his beautiful smile, and how those muscles flexed would have sent me into a puddle of fanboy if I wasn't so shocked that a human was willing to talk to me.

Kids all around me where chatting away. Some were talking about what they were going to be or do for Halloween, others were just talking about their day. Everyone, but me. Because nobody wants to talk to the kid that's different.

It was starting to become "real fall". At the beginning of fall, it feels like summer, right? Well, now the season has turned for sure, and nobody ever wears shorts anymore. It was starting to get chilly, even in the afternoons.

My house came into view as I took a right down the streets that was lined with houses, all of them looking the same. My dad's car was in the driveway, which means he hadn't found a job yet. After my mother died, my dad just stopped going to work. After two months of not going to work, his company fired him. Which then of course, ended as a beating for me.

Our house was just like all of the other houses on the block. Two story. Two bedrooms upstairs, a living room and kitchen downstairs, and a tiny garage to the right, a door usual connecting the living room to the garage. There were two windows at the top floor, facing at the street, and two windows at the bottom level, facing the street. My window was on the top level to the left.

There is a small tree in our front yard, only about six feet, that is currently changing color. Fall was my favorite season, because my mom would always make pies from the fruits that we grew in our garden that we would plant that past spring. I also just loved the colorful leaves, the scarecrows, just everything about it brought back good memories of my mom.

I pulled my key out of my pocket and unlocked our front door. The house looked the same from the outside, but once you got inside, that was when the damage of my broken life shone through.

Beer cans, dirty clothes, and ashes from cigarettes littered the floor. The house was a mess. There were dishes in the sink, dust everywhere, piles and piles of laundry, and half eaten food on the floor. I would do some of these chores, but we don't have any money to pay the water pill, so we no longer get water anymore. I usually take showers at school, in the boys locker room.

My dad, well my _birth father, _as I like to say, was sitting on our disgusting couch, reading a magazine about guns and hunting while downing a bottle of vodka.

"Hey dad." I mumbled. He just grunted.

I made my way to the kitchen, praying that there would be some food in the fridge. After going three straight days without food, I was starving and I needed something in my stomach. If I didn't I would collapse from malnutrition...again.

I opened up the fridge, but all there was were condiments. I checked the pantry, but all there was were paper towels and red solo cups. I looked at the top of the fridge, were bottles and bottles of alcohol was stored. _So he has money to buy alcohol, but not enough to buy some basic groceries? _

My stomach gave me a painful growl. I walked silently out of the kitchen, into the living room.

"Dad?" I asked. He just grunted.

"Um, when do you think you'll be able to get to the grocery store?"

My dad looked up at me with those piercing grey eyes, trying to haunt my soul. "Why?" He asked, acid in his voice.

"B-becasue we have no food." I said, now playing with the hem on my shirt nervously.

"That's not my problem." My dad said, getting back to his magazine.

"But, dad I-"

"Shut up about the food, Hiccup. Don't you see we can't afford it?" He stood up from his position on the couch. I started to tremble. I've really done it now.

"Kids." He muttered, "You're an endless money pit! I want this, I want that!"

"But, dad, I need food."

_SMACK! _My father had smacked me right across the face, my cheek stinging as if a thousand bees ha just attacked it.

"What you need it to be put in your place." My dad spat at me. He took a swing from the vodka bottle, and then grew it to the ground. Glass shattered as he the empty vodka bottle hit the floor.

"Get out of my way." My father said as he pushed me into the wall. The impact of the wall crushed my shoulder, and I fell into the pile of glass from the vodka bottle, getting glass in my hands and knees. He went into the kitchen to go grab another bottle of whatever that would make him drunk, while I ran up the stairs to my room, tears forming in my eyes.

His love for me no longer exists. He doesn't love me anymore. My wonderful life with my family was over. So was my dad's love for me.

Completely over.


	4. Something Good

**Hello everyone! How is your life? Because mine downright sucks.**

**So much work, so little sleep. I think I'm going insane.**

**All well.**

**Anyways, thank you so much for the helpful and wonderful comments you loves have left me. *offers cookies and milk* You people make me happy. You all are ****absolutely amazing, and I thank you for bringing my spirt up even if it was so far down I thought it would ever come up again.**

**Enough of the chit chat, here is Chapter 4! So sorry it's so short. Hehe. Jack is such a creepier.**

**Chapter 4: Something Good**

My face still hurt by the next morning. Six more bottles of vodka later, and my dad was sound asleep on the couch. He still was by the time I slipped out the door on my way to school, which I was thankful for.

But, what I was not thankful for was the deep purple and blue bruise that spread from my temple, to my chin, and went from my ear to the side of my nose. (My dad has huge hands, ok?) It hurt so bad, that I probably couldn't talk or eat without wincing, which isn't such a big problem since I do none of those things.

When I stepped out of my house, I noticed that it was slightly drizzling. I dreaded this afternoon, in which the weather man said we were getting an inch of rain. I would have to walk in the freezing rain, probably freezing me to the bone.

I turned the knob on my locker as I put in the combination. My wide locker door opened, shielding me from anyone coming to my left. I stuffed my books in my bag, puffing out air. Another day, another day. Another long, dreadful day of no eating and being ignored.

I closed my locker door and jumped.

"Hey, there Hiccup." Jack said cheerfully. A smile was plastered on his face, those perfect teeth showing. His muscles bulged as he held his backpack on his right shoulder. He waited behind my locker door.

"Don't do that to me." I said, although I winced because of my bruise. Jack's face dissolved into a concerned look as his eyes wondered over my bruise.

"What happened to your face?" He asked. It came out harsher than he meant, but it still sounded cruel.

"I um, ran into a door."

Jack studied my face a little bit more. "That's one big door."

"Yeah, uh, well, I'm gonna-"

"I wanted to ask you a question." I looked up at him curiously, but once I met those beautiful, icy blue eyes, I instinctively pulled my gaze down to my beat up converses.

"Yeah?"

"Are you playing this Friday?" He asked.

This time, I stared at his tee shirt, a football shirt for some college. "You mean in the orchestra?" I asked.

Jack nodded eargerly.

"Yeah, this Friday is the orchestra's concert. Why?" I asked curious, still not making eye contact.

"Because Smantha asked me to go, and I was wondering if you were going to be playing the flute there is well."

"I play the cello."

"Flute, cello, same thing. Anyways, will you be there?"

This time I tried to look him in the eye, but shrunk away from his beautiful gaze. "Yeah, I'll be there."

"Perfect. I'll have something to look forward to."

I furrowed my brow, and I looked up at him, finally gathering the courage to look at him. "What?"

"You're like, the only good player there is." Jack said.

"That's not true," I said, shaking my head, "There's a lot of really good musicians in the orchestra. You've only heard me play."

"Oh, stop being so humble, Hiccup." Jack rolled his eyes.

"I wasn't-"

"Listen Hiccup, I've heard them play before. I've been going to this school for three years now."

I bit my bottom lip, and drifted my gaze back down to the floor. My face was red from the compliment.

"Well, um, I've got to get to class." I said, pulling my backpack farther up my back.

"Class doesn't start for ten minutes."

"I like to get there early." I said, already on my way to class. Jack was asking me too many questions. I was stupid for talking to him, stupid for thinking he actually liked me as a person. Someone as amazing and beautiful as Jack wouldn't want something like me.

I darted to class, my eyes on the ground. No, Jack wasn't interested.

I slide into my seat, and put my face in my hands. Jack was just pitying me. Picking on a little freshman. Once when I would get comfortable around him he would pull the rug out from underneath my feet and then all of his football buddies would laugh at me.

But, there was a small part of me still clinging on to a shred of hope. Hope, that he wasn't pitying me, or pulling a big joke on me. Hope that maybe, something was starting. Something good.


	5. Thrown Out

**Hey guys. I'm not doing too week, right now. I have some much work to do, and it's only been a month into high school. And nobody ask me to Homecoming, and my friends bailed on me. So, it looks like Pizza and many episodes of The Big Bang Theory for me while everyone else is at Homecoming. **

**So while you cuddle with bae, I'll cuddle with my cat that looks like Toothless.**

**Sorry for that depressing note. I'm getting ****into the mood for this extra angst piece. Sorry not sorry for ripping your souls out.**

**Here it is! Chapter 5!**

**Chapter 5: Thrown Out**

My stomach rumbled as I walked home from school that day in the freezing rain, chilling me to the bone. My hair was plastered to my face, and I just prayed that my homework didn't get too wet.

Nobody else was on the sidewalk; I guess they all found a ride home.

Except for me. I was walking alone in the pouring rain.

I finally arrived at my house, letting out a sigh as I was given some relief of the rain. My stomach still growled like a hungry beast, ready to be fed. I prayed that there would be food in the house.

I opened up the front door, and the strong smell of Chinese food filled my nostrils. I sighed in relief. Food, finally. I didn't know how much longer I would go without it. I closed the door, and the smell of Chinese food made my mouth water.

I dropped my backpack off at the bottom of the steps and walked into the kitchen. "Thank Gods we have-"

I stopped in mid sentence, right in my tracks. I stood frozen, as I watched my father sit at the dinner table, eating a box of noodles.

"Oh," I said, "Hi, Dad."

My dad just grunted, as usual. I cautiously walked over to table, and stood there watching my father. He slurped on noodles and meat chunks as he finished one box and started on another. My mouth watered at the sight of food, and my stomach growled even louder. Without thinking, I reached for one of the white, warm boxes, steaming with warm, delicious food.

Next thing I knew, a large, beefy hand grabbed my tiny wrist and yanked me towards them, making my small body squish against the table.

"What," My father's tone was rising and his face was red, "do you think you are doing?"

I gulped, and whimpered. "I-I'm hungry."

"Oh, your hungry?" He mimicked my voice. "That's too bad. You want food? Go get it."

"The nearest grocery store is 30 miles from here and I can't drive."

"I don't care. Be a man Hiccup. You are a boy? Right? I mean that's what I asked for, you little embarrassment."

My face got really red, but my stomach was starting to take control of my mind. I needed food. "Please." I whimpered. "Just a little bit. Please!"

"Pathetic." My father growled, throwing me to the ground. I landed hard on my back on the dirty, hard, wooden floor. But, I sat up quickly. I couldn't stay down, as much as I wanted to. I had to show my dad that I was strong.

"Sit down." My father ordered, looking at me with those fierce, grey eyes, so unlike mine. I slowly sat down in the chair across from him, praying to the Gods that he would let me have some food.

But, he just kept slurping on the noodles and chewing on the mixed in vegetables and meat.

"You're a disgrace." My father said, studying me. "Look at you! You're not even five feet tall! What a runt, I must have done something very bad in my earlier life to get _you _as a son."

Tears pooled at the corner of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I had to show my father that I wasn't weak, that I wasn't a disgrace.

"Dad." I whispered, "Please, I haven't-"

"Ungrateful!" My father spat, making me shrink lower in my seat. "I give you a roof over your head and this is how you repay me? By taking all of my money with all of your wants?"

I whimpered slightly as my stomach growled again. Food wasn't a want, it was a _need. _I needed food.

"You know what my biggest mistake was?" My father said, chomping on the noodles and meat, soon finishing that box and moving on to another. "My biggest mistake was having _you." _

These hateful words filled my ears, and I tried not to listen to them, telling myself that my father was trying to make me tougher, but all of the harsh words coming in added to the giant tsumami in my head that was threatening to flood my mind with hate and negative energy.

And this was how it went. I was forced to sit there, watching my dad finish all five or so boxes of Chinese food while he hurled insults at me. My stomach was growling more than ever. Four days without food. Four. Any day now, I'll probably collapse.

My dad smirked at me as he finish off all of the food. Then he handed me the empty boxes and taunted, "You can have the rest."

He then walked out of the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of some kind of alcohol, and I heard the TV turn on. I sighed as I got up and threw the empty boxes in the trash. I used to want them, but now that I have them, I'm throwing them away. They have no purpose.

Just like me. And just like me, soon I'll be with those once desired white boxes.

Soon, I'll be thrown out.


	6. Black

**Hey ****guys! Thank you for all of the lovely reviews! I really need reviews, because you all give me really good ideas that incorporate into my story and make it better. So, make sure to review after you read each chapter!**

**On another note, I'm sick. I have a really bad sore throat, and my tongue hurts. You know that feeling after you eat like a ton of starbursters or skittles, and your tongue starts getting sore? Yeah, that's how mine is. So, while I'm writing this while I'm eating soup.**

**Anyways, I'm super happy with this story! I'm so glad I rewrote it. I also especially love this chapter.**

**I must thank:**

**Kitsu Maxwell for the helpful tip in this chapter. Also, he/she inspired me to rewrite this!**

**And now, Chapter 6. (All ready?!)**

**Chapter 6: Black**

On my way to school the next morning, I noticed something: My stomach stopped growling. I shrugged it off, just thinking my body was adjusting to the lack of food. But, as I got closer and closer to the school, it seemed as though each step was like having weights tied to my ankles. _I'm probably just tired. _I thought to myself.

I turned the knob on my locker and gathered all my books. My eyes were threatening to close, and for some reason everything seemed dizzy. _I's nothing I can't handle. _

"Hey Hiccup!"

I turned around, surprised at the now familiar voice. It was Jack, but he wasn't alone: next to him, hanging onto his arm, was Samantha. Her dark, long hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, and her dark eyes seemed even darker as she rimmed them heavy black eyeliner. In my opinion, she was wearing too much makeup, but it never really matters what I think. She was wearing a navy blue skirt with a white shirt. Se scanned my body with her dark eyes and smirked.

"Hey, Jack." I mumbled, looking at the ground.

"Hiccup, this is Samantha, Samantha, this is-"

"I know who he is." Samantha said. "Our little cellist. It's hilarious Jack, isn't?"

Jack looked confused, but I knew what she was getting at. "What's hilarious?"

"The fact that such a tiny kid is playing such a big instrument. It's really funny when he plays it."

My face reddened, and I kept my gaze down at my shoes.

"I think it's amazing." Jack said. I peeked up at him through my bangs, and I noticed he was smirking as Samantha scowled.

"This is why you didn't go into music, honey." Samantha said, "You don't know a mediocre musician when you see one."

I felt like I had been stabbed in the gut. That hurt, since I really valued my cello playing. _Toughen up Hiccup _I told myself, _you'll never be as good as you want to be._

"Oh, don't worry, sweetie," Jack said, looking right in Samantha's dark eyes, "I do."

I bit my lower lip to not laugh at the sight of Samantha's face. I knew I would have to pay for Jack's comment later, probably a lot of taunting, but for now, I enjoyed the moment.

Samantha cleared her throat, brushed off the comment, and stood up straight. "Well, I have to go. One of my teachers wants to talk to me about how great I did on this last test. I think I'm going to get bumped into AP Calculous."

"Oh, that's great, sweetie!" Jack said. "That means you and Hiccup would be in the same class! Isn't that great?"

Samantha's face twisted into a scowl. "What?" She said through clenched teeth.

"Yeah, Hiccup's in AP Calculous." Jack said, walking over to me. I froze in shock as he lightly draped an arm over my shoulders. "See?" He took the big textbook that read "Calculous" out of my hands and showed it to Samantha.

"_You're _in AP Calculous? But, you're a Freshman!" Samantha said, absolutely baffled.

My reddened as I mumbled, "My math scores where high enough..." I quickly tried to get Jack to stop touching me. I scooted away from him and let his arm drop. I hate it when people touch me, even though a small part of me wished Jack would never let go, would never stop touching me, keeping an arm around me. But, that would absolutely never happen. Why would Jack want to touch something like me?

Jack frowned as he took his arm off of me, I guess sensing my discomfort. Samantha was still recovering from shock that I was in AP Calculous.

"Well," She cleared her throat, trying to put herself together, "I have to go. I'll see at lunch, babe." Her and Jack kissed, which was totally weird if you asked me, and she stomped off, still ticked off that I was in a higher math class than she was.

"Ug." Jack said, wiping his sleeve on his mouth, "I got her lipgloss on my lips."

I scrunched up my face, disgusted by the fact of those two kissing. Now, I'm no match maker, but it just didn't seem right.

"Sorry about her." Jack said, "She can be really mean sometimes. She wasn't always like this." Jack shrugged, as if Samantha's behavior was just another day on a calendar.

As Jack started talking to me, I was having a hard time focusing. My vision was going hazy again, and I felt weak. It was as if everything was distorted, the colors mashing together.

"Uh, Hiccup?" I heard Jack ask, "You don't look too good. Are you alright?"

I nodded, suddenly my mouth becoming very dry. What was wrong with me? My knees started to shake, and then they collapsed underneath me.

I was going straight for the floor, if not a pair of strong, muscular, white arms caught me under the arms. I was heaved up into them, surprising me with their strength and gracefulness.

"Whoa," I heard Jack say, "You're really light."

I mumbled something unintelligent, and then everything went black.


	7. See You Then

**I am so sorry for the long wait! I am so busy with school it's not even funny. Anyways, here is chapter seven!**

**Chapter 7: See You Then**

There was a sharp pain in my stomach, that kept growing as I started to come to my senses. I was laying on something hard and cold, and I shiver slightly. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember what had happened.

"Will he be alright?" A voice asked, above me. It was a beautiful voice: soft like a feather, smooth as satin, and strong like a bolder. It sounded familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"He should be." That was another voice, but I didn't recognize it at all.

I slowly opened my eyes, and then closed them again. There was a bright light over me, that was making it hard to see. My body ached with every movement, and I really wished I would go back to sleep.

I sat up, groaning. I was able to open my eyes, and after a few blinks, I was able to see.

A beautiful face swam into view. He was pale like snow, and glistened with every movement. He had icy blue eyes that reflected off of the bright light above. He smiled a perfect, pearly white smile at me.

"You're awake!" He said, his perfectly shaped eye brows flying high on his perfect forehead. I remembered who it was: Jack. Perfect, beautiful, Jack.

"W-what happened?" I asked, touching my forehead. I had a killer head ache. "And where am I?"

"You passed out." Jack said, slowly easing my hand away from my forehead. I drew my hand back instinctively, although I craved his warm hands on my skin. Jack put his hand in his lap. "And, you're in the school nurse's office."

As if on cue, a plump, round women turned around on the wheelly chair she was sitting on. Her brown hair was pulled back in a bun, and her round glasses balanced on her nose.

"It's nice to see you awake." She said, standing up from her chair. "You passed out. Can you tell me why?"

"Um," I thought for a minute. "Not really, no. How long have I been out?"

"Two hours," she shrugged, "Give or take."

"_Why _did he pass out though." Jack said, fixing his beautiful eyes on her.

"Well," she said, fixing her glasses. "It can be a number of things. Henry-"

"Hiccup." Jack and I corrected her at the same time.

"Whatever, have you recently had a high level of blood loss?"

I pulled my eyebrows together. "Uh, no."

"Have you had any serious blows to the head or any other part of your body?"

I bit my bottom lip. Yeah, I had. But, I could survive what my father did to me. I'd done it before, and what he did was no different from what he always did.

"Not really." I said. So, I wasn't completely lying. Oh, who am I kidding? Of course I was.

"When was the last time you ate?" She asked, sitting back in her chair.

Bingo.

I knew it. That was why I passed out. I hadn't eaten in, what? Four days? But, I couldn't tell her that. She'd call my dad for sure, and then social services would get involved, no, it was better to lie.

"Um, I ate lunch yesterday."

"No you didn't." Jack's voice ran crisp and clear through my lie. "You never eat lunch."

How did he know that?

"What did you have for breakfast?" The nurse said.

"I skip breakfast." I said, gaining some curious glances from the nurse and a worried look from Jack. "Only to make it on time for school." I added.

"But, you only live ten minutes away." Jack said.

"How do you know where I live?" I asked him curiously.

"I-" But, then Jack closed his mouth, his thin face gaining a slight pink color. "I drive by it on my way to school."

"Hmm." The nurse said, thinking this over. "Take off your shoes and come over here and step on the scale, Hiccup."

I hadn't weighed myself in a long time. But, if someone asked why I weighed so little, I'd just blame it on my height. I always do it, and nobody asks questions. It seems to work.

I slowly untied my beat up converses and pushed them off my feet. Jack stared at my feet and asked, "What size are you?"

My face turned red. "I'm almost out of children's sizes."

Jack scoffed, and I glared at him. "I'm a small person!"

He nodded, trying hide his laughter.

"Well, what size are you?" I asked, stepping on the scale.

"Men's ten and a half." He smirked as my jaw dropped. "I'm also 5'11 and still growing."

"Alright." The nurse said, reading the number on the scale. Her brow fused together. "How tall are you Hiccup?"

"4'11, I think. I'm almost a five feet last time I checked." I shrugged. My mom was a late bloomer into puberty, so I never worried about it.

"Dang, you're short." Jack mumbled. I glared at him, but he just gave me an innocent smile.

"Well, let's just round you to five feet then." She said as I stepped off the scale. "When someone hits five feet, they should weigh at least 100 pounds. You weigh 64."

I opened my mouth to tell her my excuse, but I couldn't argue with the facts. I was underweight. I started to panic.

"You're underweight."

"I'm just scrawny." I said, trying to seem like being underweight was ok.

"No, Hiccup." She said, shaking her head.

"Yes, I am." I insisted. "Nothing is wrong with me. I'm short! And I'm a picky eater, and-"

"Whoa, calm down." Jack said. He leaned forward and grabbed my tiny wrist. I pulled away, but his grip was like iron, and he pulled me next to him on the small cot that I was laying on. He was strong, and his muscles flexed with each movement. He let go of my wrist, sensing my discomfort.

"Have you been eating a full three meals day?" The nurse asked me.

"Well," I said, ringing my hands together. "Not really. I just don't get hungry during the afternoon."

"Hm." The nurse said, unsure.

"I should get back to class." I said, "And make up some of my missed work. Really, I'm fine." I gave her the best fake smile I could, and it worked. Her gaze softened, and she said, "Alright. Just make sure to eat more, ok?"

"I'm just one of those people where their body forgets to tell them that their hungry." I said, shrugging. "My mom was like that. I'll do better." I plastered a fake smile on my face and started putting my shoes back on.

"You need a little food in your stomach." She said, pulling something out of a box behind her desk. She placed them in my hand: A pack of crackers and a juice box.

"That should hold you over until lunch." She said. I frowned at the food in my hand. It was weak to take food from someone, even if they offered it. I don't need anybody's help.

"That's alright." I said, trying to get her to take the food back.

She shook her head. "You can't leave until you've eaten." I frowned, because I think that was just a rule she made up.

So, I slowly gnawed on the crackers and sipped the sugary juice. It felt nice to have something in my stomach, but I also knew I was being needy and weak by taking the food.

I quickly finished the snack.

"We should probably get to class." I mumbled to Jack. He nodded, and then asked the nurse for a pass. We both left the nurses room in silence.

"Why didn't you go back?" I asked Jack as we were going down a flight of stairs.

"What?" He asked, his piercing blue eyes fixing on me.

I swallowed, mesmerize by his beauty. "Um, why did you stay with me? Why didn't you go back to class?"

"Oh." Jack's brow furrowed. He let a breath, thinking. His beautiful, pale, skin shimmered in the lights of the hallway. He moved fluently and gracefully, yet he was strong and had a very territorial stance to him. And then there was me.

"It just didn't seem like the right thing to do. You know, just leave you there." Jack shrugged.

"Oh," I said, looking down at my shoes. "Oh, thanks."

A part of me was glad. Jack was just being a nice person, doing the right thing. But, another part of me was a little sad. Was that the _only _reason he stayed? Because it was the right thing to do, as a friend? Or, was there maybe something else? Maybe Jack, _wanted _to stay. But, that wouldn't make sense. Why would someone like Jack, stunning, amazing, popular Jack, want to stay with someone like _me?_

"Yeah, no problem." Jack said. He fixed his gaze on me, and I could feel his gorgeous eyes studying me. He ran a hand through his snowy white, gorgeous hair.

My mouth went dry. I would have thought he was a god if I didn't know. I bit my bottom lip, a nervous habit, hoping he would stop looking at me.

The muscles in his arms flexed, until I saw a hint of his pure, blue veins. He was...what's the word..._jacked. _If only I could be like that.

"Well," I mumbled, "I've gotta go..so.."

"Wait!" Jack called as I tried to fast walk away from him and to my class. His strong, pale hand wrapped around my thin wrist, and he spun me around to face him. I could feel the warmth of his hands on my cold skin. He smiled at me, a perfect, pearly white smile, and I felt like I had cotton in my mouth.

"Yes?" I whispered, refusing to look at Jack.

"Do you have cello practice today, during lunch?" He asked.

"Well, I go on my own behalf." I said, shrugging. Yet, even though it was a small step, Jack remembered what instrument I played. He remembered that I played the cello, and that I practice during lunch everyday.

"Do you mind not practicing today?"

I scrunched my eyebrows together. "Uh, how come? Does Samantha want to practice in there? Because I'm perfectly happy sharing-"

"No, this isn't about Samantha." Jack said, shaking his head. "I was wondering if you wanted to go to lunch with me."

I froze. Lunch...with _Jack? _This had to be a joke. There was no way _Jack Frost _ wanted to have lunch with Hiccup the loser.

"Uh, I don't have any money. But, thanks for the offer." I smiled a hopefully convincing smile at him.

"Oh! That's fine! My treat." He winked at me, and I thought I was going to melt into a puddle. He was so gorgeous. _Gah, stop it, Hiccup. He'll never be interested in you. He's probably just trying to make you not feel like a loser._

"Um." I rung my hands together, nervously. It was rude to make people pay things for you. But, he did offer it in the first place. And it would be rude to say no, since everyone knows I have nothing better to do.

"Uh..ok." I said.

Jack smiled a bright smile at me. His eyes sparkled with electricity. "Great. What's your last class before lunch?" He asked.

"Art." I answered.

Jack pulled his eyebrows together. "I thought art was your last class of the day."

"No," I said, shaking my head, "Engineering is my last class."

"Oh, yeah! That's right!" Jack eyes lit up. "Sorry, my brain is kinda slow at times."

I gave him a nervous laugh. How would he know my schedule? It had to be just a coincidence. "Yeah, so I'll be painting." I gave him a half smile.

"My class always ends early, so I'll be there." Jack said. We now had to part ways, since my art class was down the opposite hallway of his next class.

"Ok." I said, "Um...see you then?"

He smiled. "Yeah, see you then."


End file.
